A/N: Okay, ladies and gents, I'm only going to say this once. This chapter deserves its rating.

Daesha focused her mind. She felt, rather than heard, the components of her lightsaber clink softly together as they raised into the air. Her hands shifted, moving the parts into position as she remembered her teachings. The crystal is the heart of the blade. The blade is the hand of the Force. The Force is the heart of the Jedi. The Jedi is the blade of the Force. All are one. She made a simple movement with her fingers, and the components all rushed back together with a satisfying click. The weapon vibrated with power, and she took it from the air. After laying it in her lap, Daesha opened her eyes. The emerald blade was an extension of her power in the Force, just as she was an extension of the Force. Unlike the Sith, who tried to bend the Force to suit their will, the Jedi chose to fill themselves with it. They tried, as best they could, to obey its will and serve its purpose. Occasionally they failed, but much more often, they succeeded. Daesha sighed and placed a hand to her head, hoping that eventually she would be able to count this experience as a success, rather than a failure. She had done the right thing by helping Scourge, of that she was positive. But whether or not she had made a wise decision would be up to him. Daesha glanced down at her lightsaber, overcome by the desire to power it on. She relished the comforting hum, and it often soothed her nerves. But she knew that to do so might wake the room's other occupant.

Scourge lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He had blacked out immediately after the ritual. Masters Sengre and Teman had examined him carefully before declaring him fit to move. He had been taken to a small chamber just off the healer's wing. If anything went wrong, help would be readily available. That had been twelve hours ago. Daesha had been here for eleven, only leaving for an hour to comm the ship and eat. Doc and Rusk had been informed that the ritual was complete, and that Scourge would be headed back to the ship once the healers declared him able. Kira had come by two hours later and offered to take her spot, saying that she needed to rest. Daesha had politely refused her, saying that she should be here when Scourge woke. She needed to know if it had worked; she hoped it had. If it hadn't, she had no idea where to even begin looking for other alternatives, or if Scourge would even be willing to try again. What if it had all been just a huge disappointment? If she had raised his hopes only to have them cruelly dashed, would he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself for doing that to an ally? Or, if it had worked, would he regret it in a few days? Would he grow to resent her for taking away his immortality? Would he eventually turn on her and seek revenge? Daesha shook her head forcefully. She was allowing her emotions to overcome her. If the ritual had worked, then she would share his happiness. If it hadn't worked, she would continue searching until she found a way.

Kneeling, Daesha placed her lightsaber to one side and folded her hands in her lap. She opened to the Force, drawing the light into her until she saw and felt nothing else. It flowed through her like a conduit, allowing her to take full stock of her mind and body, as well as sense Scourge's mind. He was at rest, his mind blank. Yet, one thing had changed. She could no longer sense the overwhelming darkness that usually clung to him. Always before, it had seemed wrapped around him like a garment, flexing and flowing with the way he moved. Now, it was simply gone. His aura was completely neutral. She knew that would change once he woke, but for now, she relished the feel. She wondered who he would become, and the course his life would take now.

Daesha sank into the meditation, her muscles relaxing and her mind focused on the image of a lone candle. The flame flickered and smoked, yet the small light illuminated her mind. She was reminded of her description of the Emperor's death. That small flame of hope had driven away the darkness, if only for a second. Honestly, Daesha sometimes worried that the Emperor still lived in some form. If he did, she would continue to fight him until he died a true death. Even if it took the rest of her natural life, she would fight his influence in the galaxy. Her mind flitted back to Scourge, and she hoped once more that the ritual had worked. The look on his face alone had been worth all the effort. Sajar's vision had come true, if only for an afternoon. Scourge had been consumed by the light; it had possessed his body and mind. Daesha wondered idly what his opinion of the light side would become, now that this had happened. He would no longer be able to deny its power, for the ritual had left him unconscious.

Daesha came out of her meditation when she heard a slight rustling. She turned as Scourge slowly woke. He groaned and placed a hand to his forehead. Once his fingers grazed the skin, he stilled. His fingers curled up into a fist. He stayed still for about a minute before uncurling his hand. Hesitantly, he placed a hand to his face, feeling over the bridge of his nose before moving up to his eye ridges. He placed both hands over his face, scrubbing them up and down. He then inhaled deeply, his chest expanding. His eyes moved rapidly behind their lids, and his breath was shaky when he exhaled. Daesha felt his presence extend out into the Force, and she brushed his awareness with her own. He swallowed thickly when he felt her, and his eyes remained closed. "Daesha?" he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.

"I'm here," she said, moving over beside his bed and kneeling down. He reached up a hand, and she took it. His grip tightened to the point of pain, but she remained silent. He slowly opened his eyes before shutting them immediately. She applied the Force to his mind, hoping to help with the dizziness. He chuckled at the action. "Did it work?" she asked.

"Yes," he breathed. He opened his eyes, and his pupils constricted at the lights. After a few seconds, they slowly widened. He blinked several times, his gaze wandering the room. Daesha bit her lip, trying not to smile. She was suddenly reminded of the day her sister Seela had been born. Her huge blue eyes had been roaming the room, her miniature lekku wriggling in irritation when Daesha had taken her from their mother. She had begun squirming, and Daesha's father had quickly taken her. The day Daesha had watched her parents, two elder brothers, and new sister had been the day she had realized she was different. Only afterwards had she asked her father, and he had been forced to explain to a five-year-old what adoption was. She hadn't understood then. When she had joined the Jedi, it had become clearer. Scourge, at the moment, very much reminded her of Seela.

She glanced up again, and he was watching her. For once, there was no calculation in his eyes. He wasn't scrutinizing her or studying her every move. He was just gazing at her, seemingly amazed. His eyes were warm, and his face broke into a smile. Daesha's mouth dropped open. She had often seen him smirk before he began mocking someone (usually her), or she had seen him smile grimly in anticipation of battle. But she had never seen him genuinely smile; it transformed him. For a moment, the Sith Lord was gone. In his place was just an ordinary man, seeing and feeling for the first time. "You are exactly as I remember from my vision," he said, and he reached a finger up to stroke her hair. He shuddered at the contact and pulled Daesha down onto the bed beside him.

He turned over on his side, pulling her closer until they were only a few inches apart. Scourge reached up and undid her bun, throwing the pins lazily onto the floor. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her closer before burying his nose in the hair just behind her ear. He inhaled deeply, his presence in the Force radiating happiness. When he exhaled, his breath came out shaky again. He repeated the process several more times, pressing her closer each time until they were chest to chest. Daesha stayed rigidly still, understanding his actions yet also made extremely nervous by them. She started when he moved down to her neck, inhaling her scent as if it were deathstick smoke and he were an addict. A thrill shot through her, and goose bumps appeared on her neck. His hands, meanwhile, were rubbing up and down her back, fisting occasionally in the soft material of her tunics. He moved his attentions to the other side of her head, and Daesha grabbed onto his shoulder instinctively. She squeezed hard as he smelled her, the contact close to ticklish. Her nails bit into the material of his healing-ward tunics, and he chuckled. Daesha swallowed, and he lifted his head to look at her. "I had hardly expected you to be the one who reintroduced me to pain," he grinned. "Do it again. Please," he asked when she hesitated. Daesha acquiesced, using it as a vent of her confusion. Scourge's eyes closed. "Oh, by the Force," he whispered, burying his head in the crook of her neck again. They laid that way for a few minutes, and Scourge finally lifted his head up again. He studied her for a long time, his eyes roving over every feature of her face. "I must admit, human pigmentation appears strange to me after so long," he said.

Daesha laughed at that. "Says the man with red eyes and skin," she shot back.

Scourge lifted his hand up, seemingly seeing it for the first time. He turned it over before holding it up beside her face. "Quite a contrast," he agreed.

"Indeed," Daesha nodded.

Scourge lifted his hand up, gently brushing a finger down her cheek. Daesha's heart started to pound, her dream from hyperspace flashing through her mind. Scourge's fingers traced her whole face before returning to her cheek. She knew that her face must be bright red. "Your skin is like…vinesilk," he breathed.

Daesha swallowed thickly. "I never would have thought of that comparison," she smiled ironically. He frowned in confusion at her response. If he ever knew the truth about that dream, she would never live it down. "You are truly free?" He nodded. "I should contact Master Teman. She needs to hear of this." She tried to push away from him, but he held her fast.

"In a moment," he insisted, studying her face again as if trying to memorize it. Daesha held his gaze, relying on her negotiation skills to help her avoid looking away. His eyes lowered to her lips, and she could feel his curiosity.

"I should go," Daesha said, scooting back an inch or so. Scourge's grip on her tightened, and he drew her back wordlessly. He hesitated only a second before lowering his mouth to hers. Their lips brushed, slowly melding together. Daesha's eyes widened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder to push him away. He moved her hand, placing it down on his chest. He then cupped the side of her face, tilting his head and kissing her more forcefully. Scourge's lips plied against hers, gaining the access he wanted after a few seconds. He ran his tongue between her lips, smiling at the whimper it elicited. He then nibbled at her bottom lip before pulling back, a satisfied light filling his red eyes.

"Now you may go," he murmured. "No doubt Master Teman is eagerly awaiting." Daesha glared at him before looking down. Her face really was on fire. She scooted away from him and stood, calling her lightsaber to her hand. She clipped it back at her belt.

"I share your happiness that the ritual worked," she said, bowing slightly.

"We will share much more than happiness, once I recover," he smirked.

"I…I must report to Master Teman," Daesha fumbled, scurrying out the door before he could say anything else.

"Your vitals appear normal, with the exception of a slight elevation in your blood pressure. But, given what has happened, along with your lack of fluid ingestion, that is to be expected," Master Teman said, making a few notes on the datapad she held. She placed it down on his bed and pulled a small light from her belt. "Look here," she instructed, holding up a finger and shining the light in his eyes. Scourge did as she said, waiting patiently for the end of her examination. "Hmm," Master Teman said, looking into his other eye. Scourge raised an eye ridge and glanced at Daesha. She shrugged. "Hold still," the Jedi healer fussed, wrenching his chin back to look at her. Daesha stifled a smile. Master Teman finished and released his chin. Scourge worked his jaw, surprised that such a tiny woman could be so strong. She typed a few more observations into her datapad and finally glanced at him. "Everything appears well, but you should eat soon. And make sure that you ingest at least three glasses of liquid, not caff. Your body is becoming dehydrated. I will perform another exam at ten tomorrow morning. If all is well, you can return to your ship."

"If you must," Scourge sighed, rubbing his chin. There might actually be bruises tomorrow.

Daesha glared at him before turning to Master Teman. Luckily, the Jedi was too busy typing to respond to his comments. "Thank you for your concern, Master. I'm sure that Scourge appreciates it," she said.

"I'm sure he appreciates my company as much as I appreciate his," she replied without looking up. "He would hardly be the first difficult case I've had."

"If this is how you handle all your cases, I'm surprised the Jedi haven't all perished," Scourge muttered.

"Oh, I don't treat everyone like this. Only the lucky ones," she shot back.

"Indeed," Scourge hissed.

"And the mouthy ones too," she snorted, finally glancing up at him. "In all seriousness, you are doing well. If you eat and drink, you should be fit to leave tomorrow. But should you begin to experience headaches, dizziness, or nausea, you need to contact us immediately."

"Of course, Jedi," he replied.

Master Teman studied him for a moment. "You have been given a great gift, Scourge. Welcome back to the land of the living," she said by way of parting. Once she was gone, Daesha smiled.

"You should not antagonize Master Teman," she advised. "She has been a healer for almost twenty years, and she knows how to relieve or cause pain."

"You know this from experience?" Scourge snorted.

"Only through reputation," Daesha assured. "I learned better than that after I saw what she did to Master Orgus." Scourge looked confused, and she sighed. "Orgus Din, my former Master. He was killed by Darth Angral."

"I take it Angral died painfully?" Scourge replied.

"He died," Daesha said. "Revenge is not the Jedi way, and it is not what Master Orgus would have wanted."

"What about what you wanted?" Scourge asked. "I can sense the anger within you."

"Irrelevant," Daesha evaded. "I will honor my Master's memory, regardless of what my baser instincts may have desired."

"The death of a Master is hardly irrelevant to Jedi," Scourge argued. "It is natural to seek revenge."

"That is why the Jedi dedicate themselves to a higher purpose. We are like all other beings. We do feel emotions, but we do not let them cloud our judgment. Darth Angral was a threat to the Republic, and I killed him. But it was not out of anger. It was out of necessity," Daesha said.

"A convincing excuse," Scourge said, rising and crossing over to her. "To kill without emotion is an experience I have never had. It hardly seems like the reaction of a sane sentient."

"You spent three centuries bereft of emotion. You killed hundreds in that time," Daesha pointed out.

"Thousands, actually. Anger, ambition, and fear were my fuel before the ritual. Afterwards, only anger," Scourge corrected. "I have never killed without passion of some kind. To do so seems unnatural."

"And that is the Sith's greatest flaw. Killing does not have to be about revenge or ambition, anger or fear. It does not have to be unmerciful," Daesha sighed.

"Yet the result is always the same," Scourge said. "The elimination of a rival."

"Indeed," Daesha admitted. There was a heavy silence before she smiled grimly. "How is it that you can debate so shortly after the ritual?"

"It is a talent," Scourge shrugged.

"Are you hungry?" Daesha asked, glancing at the door. "The cafeteria is closed, but I'm sure that we can find something." Scourge took a step closer, and she had to crane her neck up to look at him. She could feel desire rolling off him, and Daesha tried to step back. He caught hold of her waist and pulled her back to him. He ran a hand up her spine, and Daesha shivered.

"I do not seek food. Nothing so trivial," he murmured.

"Scourge," Daesha warned, trying again to step back. It was like her back being pressed against an iron bar. He leaned down, and Daesha placed both fists against his chest, trying to push him back. "Do not-" she began before he quickly covered her mouth with his, cutting off her protests. He slipped his tongue between her teeth, taking full advantage of her shock to hoist her up. He wrapped her thigh around his waist, crossing back to his bed before depositing her underneath him. Daesha finally regained her senses, and her surprise quickly turned to irritation. She pushed at his chest again, and he pulled both arms above her head before using the Force to secure them there. He then placed a hand behind her head, pulling her closer to him and slipping a hand behind her back. Daesha bit his tongue, hoping that the pain might make him stop. Instead, he moaned and his hips surged down into hers. She whimpered in panicked surprise as a small flare of heat shot up into her stomach. Daesha closed her eyes in shame. This was so wrong. She wished that the sensations in her stomach had not been so sweet, that his position between her thighs didn't feel right on such a primal level. He pulled his head back just as her lungs began to burn, staring down at her with what almost looked like…affection.

"It would be better to just let me have my way, Jedi," he whispered. "I can feel your desire building."

"How far...are you...planning to go? I don't want...to have to...hurt you," Daesha panted.

"I will not rape you," Scourge scoffed in offense. "I am not so base as some of my fellow Sith."

"This is still wrong. It is against the Code," she breathed.

"Nothing about this is wrong," Scourge frowned. "Passion is natural. What could be more right?" With that, he lowered his mouth, kissing along the column of her neck. The restraints on her wrists released, and Daesha moved her hands to his shoulders, intending to push him off. Instead, she clung to his shoulders when he reached the crook of her neck. He bit down gently, nibbling on the skin there for several seconds. Daesha closed her eyes again, stifling a small moan when his actions sent several sharp spikes of heat to her lower stomach. Her hips lifted instinctively, and she felt him smile. Scourge said nothing, continuing to kiss along her collarbone until he reached the edge of her tunic. He moved back the other way until he reached the crook of her neck again. She shivered when he bit down on the same spot. But this time, he bit hard, tongue whirling around the edge of the bite as he sucked. Daesha gasped at the sensation, running her hands down his arms. She glanced away from him, not trusting herself enough to look at him. His bare forearm caught her eye, the muscles flexing slightly in response to his movements. Not thinking, Daesha planted a kiss on his forearm, eyelids fluttering in pleasure. The action stopped him, and he glanced down at her in surprise. She gazed up at him with hooded eyes. Leaning down, he kissed her thoroughly before sitting up.

Daesha lay there for a moment, recovering her wits. "That was wrong," she finally managed.

Scourge turned her head to face him. "Only in your eyes, Jedi," he smirked. "I rather enjoyed myself."

"I know you did," she retorted, sitting up. "But it – it cannot happen again."

Scourge shrugged. "Only you can decide when you will be brave enough to embrace your true nature," he said. "I will be waiting when you do."

"Don't hold your breath," Daesha warned.

"I have waited for three centuries. I can wait a little longer," he promised.

Daesha blushed but held his gaze. "I should go," she said.

He moved out of her path and helped her stand. "Rest well," he instructed.

"You as well," she said, lingering only a few seconds before walking out the door.